Post by kaster on Oct 6, 2022 6:06:35 GMT
A steady camera shot reveals Caleb Cannin in the trainer’s room, post-Legacy. His face is caked with dried blood. He’s unsure if most of it is his or Nick’s. Doctors slowly pull tiny brass thumbtacks out of his back. All of his body hurt to no end, yet he knew training would start again the very next day. It always did.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It wasn’t easy by any means, but he had done it. His very first pay-per-view match went off without a hitch. Incredible to think that putting his body through that much pain was actually the intended plan. The first thing he did after getting to his hotel room was scroll through the plethora of posts, comments, videos, anything that involved his performance on Sunday.
Most of it was shocked reactions towards the brutal spots of the match, but praise was doled out to both combatants. He smiled at the words as he scrolled over each bit of text. The idea to call Nick crossed his mind, but he figured that he’d be resting at his own leisure. His head lay upon the cool pillow, his phone hovering just above his face.
Suddenly, a notification bubbled from the top of the screen. It read only the name of the messenger.
Roderick Cannin.
He quickly shut his phone off and tossed the phone aside. A long sigh escaped from his throat as he turned onto his side. As he went to sleep that night, he silently vowed to never read over that name again.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The camera opens on Caleb Cannin, sat in a chair. He thumbs through pages of “The Iliad” by Homer. Shutting the book, he leans towards the lens.
Cannin: “When I think of legends… I think of people who have defined a generation. Someone who makes an impact on the careers and lives of those around them. A legend is that who remains in the minds and souls of all that witness them. That… is not you, Adam Gatner.”
He smirks devilishly.
Cannin: “See, IWF made this bombastic announcement that they will be creating a new show for the network. You and I are going to make history, Adam, because we will be on the first ever Odyssey show. I, for one, don’t plan on disappointing. Just like I didn’t disappoint at Legacy.”
The face of Cannin drops to a dead serious expression. He brushes back some of his hair, revealing a grotesque image of staples embedded into his head.
Cannin: “DO YOU SEE THAT, WOLF?! THAT is how far I’m willing to go to get what I want. And yet… when I beat Nick Danger’s ass, he gets rewarded with a title shot? What do I have to do to get attention? Maybe… just maybe, I can put down Old Wolfy to put eyes on Odyssey.”
He brushes his hair back to normal, still looking intensely into the camera.
Cannin: “You can call yourself a wolf, you can parade around your accolades, you can even bring out your little bimbo valet, it doesn’t matter! I… am going to be the Captain of the Odyssey. If Odyssey is the future, then I will gladly be the face of this brand. Not just the face, but the champion too. Yeah, you hear that, boys and girls? I’m not content with fighting geeks for a good win-loss record, I want the gold around my waist. Once I am champ, I will bring both Odyssey and the IWF into a golden age that they’ve never seen before. And why stop there? Hey, Nicky Knight, I’m talking to you. That TV title looks awfully heavy to hold, especially for a guy your age. Maybe you should finally let the young lion take the reins so you can piss off back to the bingo halls with the rest of the deathmatch nobodies.”
Slightly shaking his head, he leans back against the chair.
Cannin: “Back to the subject at hand… Gatner, you might as well save us both the trouble and not show up. We all know how this is going to end. But if you insist on being this ridiculous Alpha Wolf… then I’m just going to have to make you my bitch! You’ll make a good stepping stone for what is undoubtedly the Future of the brand. Beating a former world champion, yeah, it’s no joke, but while you rot in mediocrity, I’ll be shooting for the stars!”
He stands up and folds up the chair, holding it in his hands.
Cannin: “I'll leave you with this, Wolfy: If you come to Caleb Cannin’s Odyssey, then you better buckle up. Captain’s orders.”
He bashes the chair against the camera, forcing it to cut out.
Well howdy there pardner.